


Lemongrass and Sleep | Destiel

by HunterGreeney



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Bipolardisorder, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, BoyxBoy, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Castiel/ Dean Winchester - Freeform, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Family Problems, Human Castiel, Kinky, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Mental Illness, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Supernatural - Freeform, Top Castiel, Top Dean Winchester, Trauma, bipolar, mature - Freeform, mature content, poolsex, showersex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-08-08 07:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterGreeney/pseuds/HunterGreeney
Summary: Castiel Novak is lacking money, desperate, he finds work caring for a man, Dean Winchester, who is struggling mentally all alone when his father leaves him to go on a business trip.As Castiel attempts to care for Dean in his times of sorrow and doubt, Castiel begins to wonder if he was the right person for the job.





	1. Chapter 1

Lemongrass and Sleep is a fan fiction based on the “relationship” of the Supernatural ship Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak.

Do not re-publish this without permission from the author (me). Enjoy the story. :)

 

"Angel Care Hospital:Homecare- Nurse: Castiel Novak Price per day: $115/$4 per.hour Memo: I'm available for in-home and hospital care. I can work up to two weeks full for $230 a day. My name is Castiel Novak, I am a hospice nurse. I deal with coma patients, mentally disabled patients, physically disabled, and others. I can work up to full-care and willing to negotiate on price. Number below- \---_---_----"

My small forum on the website for the hospital I worked at, a section completely dedicated to me. I usually worked with old patients, mere people that simply wanted to live out their days in peace, unafraid of what to come. Lately, though, my ever-so paying job has been dead. Fewer calls for me, more for the other women that also continued work as a nurse. I had begun to realize that majoring in a doctoral degree isn't exactly something that would be easy. 

My finger scrolled through the pages on the screen, on and on, the lists of nurses ranged from old to young, mostly women, some men looking like women and some women looking like men.

Click. Click. Click.

They were all the same, boring patches of notes. "Call this number, willing to work with anyone only for $75 a day-!" Extremely low prices, I thought, way too low if I had hoped to maintain this job. My hope lowered as I shut off the screen to the box-like computer, twirling my cold chair around to look at my room. It hummed and cranked until the screen went black.

Light, cheery, just the way I liked it. There wasn't much mess to much my room, a painting of flowers in a vase on the wall, actual flowers sitting atop a cherry-wood desk, each drawer holding a different type of clothing. The bed held no meaning, a bright white cover held a small sense of peace to it, along with white pillows. White carpets, white clothing. I hadn't much money, but spending it on this was definitely worth it in my eyes. He was usually stunned and confused as to why everything was white. It brings comfort, peace, I told him.  
He joked, said it brought blindness and he absolutely hated it when he first moved in.

By 'he' I mean my boyfriend, Zachariah. Zach wasn't much of a talkative person, nor was he the nicest. I thought I brought out the better out in him, but I didn't. 

I would twirl around in my chair, waiting for him to arrive. An hour would pass, then two, three until it was one in the morning and I'd pass out from exhaustion. It was a 50/50 chance. Some nights he would come home, some nights he wouldn't. He worked really late at his job and said that sometimes he'd sleep in his car. On those nights I took it as a chance to read, lovingly flipping through the sandpaper pages of my favorite book until the sun would rise and I'd have to check into the hospital again. 

But one night he left and he didn't come back. It took a week before I called him and asked him to explain or to come over. He had been seeing a woman, a girl. Confessing that men hadn't been something he was really into, saying awful things. Awful things. Screaming and yelling until he had enough and left, slamming the door and leaving me to sit there in the silence.

Yet I still miss him. I miss his touch, his snarky replies even if they weren't the kindest. I'd even miss the shoes he'd leave on the floor in a mess, knowing that I'd pick them up and put them by the door each morning. I missed him a lot. I missed the first nights when he'd tell me how he felt and touch me like I meant something. But that night he left me, he swore that I was worthless. He swore that I was useless. It took me a while to finally convince myself that I wasn’t.

The sudden buzz from my phone continued, followed by a ringtone, filled the small room like an echo. I glanced at the bright screen; Unknown Caller. Taken aback, I cleared my throat before flinging the phone open with a flick of my wrist. 

"Castiel speaking. Who's this?" My voice said calmly. A crunchy, gravel voice spoke hurriedly on the other line. "Uh, Hey. Yeah, I'm John Winchester. I saw your nursing ad ..thing. I was wondering if you'd be able to come to my home and help?" 

"You'd like me to assist you with nursing?" I questioned, he seemed fine over the phone. "No -Uh, my son. I'm going to be gone for some time and I need someone to watch him considering his.. disabilities."  
"Ah, he's disabled?" I asked bluntly. "Dean-uh, he has an extreme case of bipolar disorder. He has these episodes that cause him to act out of character- you know, struggling a lot mentally. Do you deal with the mentally problematic patients also?" "Yes. I do." I said. Over the course of the hour, his voice was consistent, answering every question I had to ask. 

After getting most of the information down he took a long, drawn-out sigh. "I'll give you the rest of the details when you get here and I'll introduce you to him." He said. "That's fine, how long will you need me to stay? I can do a wee-" I was interrupted by the man, seeing as he already knew my question. 

"About five months, maybe six." He spoke quickly. My breath stopped, I almost seized from the shock. "Months?" Was all I mustered out in the most professional voice I could do. "Yes, but you'll be paid well worth your stay," John assured me. "Mr. Winchester, I'm sorry, but I can't do t-" 

"I can pay you $250,000 in cash."

My hand gripped over my mouth, voice caught in my throat, as if I had been removed of all thought and translation. "I'm sorry?" I managed to muffle out. "A quarter of a million." He repeated. 

"I'm sorry, but I really don't think I can accept that. I mean— the amount of money and the time." I tried to explain, but all I could think was that voice in the back of my head. Take the job. Take the job, take it. He waited for me to continue. Did he just expect me to drop everything? I took a deep breath, "When will you need me to come?" "Two days. I suggest packing a lot." 

*  
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Came from a concerned Gabriel, we sat out in the balcony that barely held itself up from cheap equipment and weak wood. "I have to be." I confessed. "Castiel, the longest you've gone caring for someone was two weeks, and you've never dealt with this mental disorder before." He argued. "I've dealt with mental disabilities before." 

"You've dealt with Alzheimer's." 

"I know!" I yelled, frustrated. "but I don't have a choice. My last notice came today." Looking down at my lap, I sighed. "I have two months to pack and leave. The landlord was very clear about it this time, no more, he said. I'm not saying I want to do this or that I'll even be good at it, but this is what I went to school for, this is why I'm in debt. I can't keep doing this or I'll end up on the streets, Gabriel. I need this.”

"Castiel..why didn't you tell me?" He said, leaning into my shoulder a bit. The bench we sat on was freezing cold, I could feel the chilling air hitting the back of my throat every time I dared to take a breath. "It doesn't matter now, the point is ..doing this would give me a place to stay. I could buy my own house, maybe even settle in a place." 

"I have to do this." There was a slight pause of thought. There was tension in the air and I know he could feel it too. "Fine," Gabriel said whilst getting up and taking a deep breath. "send a postcard, will you?" He lightened the situation, patting my shoulder roughly and bringing his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it.

"It's a job, not a vacation." I said bluntly.


	2. Introductions

Saying a short goodbye to my brother was easy as he had left a simple message on a small notepad that didn't require a response.

Stay safe.

I left the apartment, shutting the door firmly and realizing that I was actually about to do this.

***

My car could barely hoard the luggage that was positioned tightly in the trunk. It took many stops of unloading and reloading before I could finally feel comfortable with everything that was irregularly placed in the small space. If I don't die from exhaustion then it would surely be from this tightly packed car.

My eyes opened and closed lightly, my breath was calm and long. Half asleep under the moonlit car and headlights that shined from behind, my eyes shot open as I saw the exit sign that I had been waiting for so many exits ago. I counted them down as I edged closer to my destined exit. I finally pulled off of the highway, following down a labyrinth of roads. I passed town after town until the towns began to fade and they were filled deserted streets and tall trees. Minutes passed and I still traveled down the lonesome road, tall trees towered on either side of me. No music, no sound, just the unsettling feeling and anxiousness awaited, knowing I was only 50 miles away. 

10 miles left. What house could possibly be 50 minutes out of town? "Where the heck am I?" I softly said to myself, turning and twisting through the massive trees that held themselves firmly in the ground next to the roads. My tires crunched and bumped against the rocks as I pulled into a dirt street. "This is not going to be good," I said to myself, my car couldn't handle this type of street. Mr. Winchester didn't even mention this. -but then again I didn't mention the type of transportation I was going to be using, let alone what type of car. I'd have to make due with what I could.

There it was, I finally pulled up to an open area that held no driveway, just a dirt road leading into a grass yard. It wasn't until I really looked at the house that I realized how undeniably sketchy this was, yet how as I looked at it, I couldn't deny that the house was absolutely amazing. The mansion was there, and it was massive. I was in awe, amazed at the structure. 

Over $250,000 for a couple months, and paid in cash? Not many details or information. I couldn't even remember properly what the patient's name was from how little Mr. Winchester mentioned him. What if that wasn't real? Surely a sane person wouldn't make me drive all the way out here just to kill me, maybe worse? Then again maybe they weren't sane. Still, pulling up the house made me think that this would be real and I would have a fresh start. It definitely looked real.

The house was absolutely huge. Large windows were spread across the house, a modern look with bright lights inside shining in the darkness.

Walking down the marble walkway, I glanced around at the beautiful architecture in front of me. My shoes clicked and tapped on the hard walkway as I slowly made my way to the door.

Before I prepared my hand to collide with the house in a beating motion a man came walking to the glass door. A man looked to be in his 40's or 50's stood on the other side of the door. He was hesitant, "Novak, right? You're the nurse." I awkwardly smiled, it was amazing how clearly I could hear him through it. "Yeah, yeah that's me. Good guess." I replied with a soft tone of voice. A smile made its way across his face, big, almost relieved as he slid open the door. "Easy guess, we don't get many visitors anymore.." he paused for a moment "but come in, please! Welcome." He moved his body away from the door, an arm held out as if to show the way into the house. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester." I said with my hand held out. "Oh, no, just call me John. John is fine." He grasped his hand with mine, clapping in a jilted excitement, "Okay, so the kitchen is around the corner as well as the dining area, the living room is that way and the upstairs contains the bedrooms." He talked quickly, taking a stroll through the rooms. He stopped and turned around, "Now, we have a pool out back that you're free to use whenever you feel like it, but don't wear sunscreen when getting in because it messes with the water." He kept walking and we were back at the door again. "That's about it for areas, but I think that you'll be alright in that department." He jumped in a jittery motion, almost with excitement.

"Sounds great. So-" I hesitated with a warming smile, arching my shoulders with anticipation. "Can I see him?" I had traveled all this way, seeing the patient would be more than appropriate right now. John stopped and glanced at the stairway, sighing. "Well, he's sleeping right now, he had a tough day today.. Just take a look around and make yourself feel at home. Are your bags in the car still? I'll go get them." He began to head out the door. "Actually," I stopped him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk about money for a moment." He winced as if my words crashed into his face. 

"Is that not enough? I can give you m-" "No!" I said quickly. "It's more than enough. I was just wondering if I could change some things we discussed over the phone. You know, instead of being paid all at once maybe a weekly payment would be better?" He thought for a moment, then turned his back to me, walking out of the door. "Yeah, that's good. Whatever works." That was followed by a sliding glass door opening as he walked outside to my car. Luckily, I could see him through the walls of the thick glass as he continued to unpack my luggage out of my car.

I was left in the blistering silence, the only sound was a small humming of tune in a distant room upstairs, I decided to leave it be. Though, I did wonder what it was.

Well, I thought. Surely I could just look around. I decided to pay a trip to the room I'd be sleeping in at night and, in hopes, make it feel like home. I sighed and took a look up the long, narrow staircase, walking up it. My foot became heavier as if my legs were tempting the pressure. There was a hallway of rooms, I began to walk down it. The walls were decorated in pictures, but my eyes landed on one in particular. In the frame was John along with two other boys, they held close to each other with bright smiles on their faces. One arm, the blonde haired boy slung over the other boy with the dark brown hair. They seemed happy, so happy that their smiles were infectious and a smile made its way to my face. It had been a long time since I had experienced something like that. 

Ignoring the rest of the pictures, I went on to walk down the hallway. The first room on my right, closed, the next one was a bathroom, then two more, closed. The one at the end of the hall, open. I noticed as I walked down the hallway one of the rooms had a tune to it, a soft melody playing behind the thick wood. It was the same soft melody that I had heard downstairs. My breath was shallowed to keep quiet, one breath at a time, small and quick. I was curious, but the door remained locked and I couldn’t do anything about that regardless of how curious I was. I assumed that the open door was my room, so as my body passed the doorframe I examined everything.

It was empty except for the bed, a book-less bookshelf, a small nightstand, and a large tv positioned against the wall. I sat down for a minute and after that minute in came John carrying half of my luggage and managing to hoist it onto the bed. He let out a large huff and put his hands on his knees. "Damn, kid. You sure did pack." I gave an apologetic smile and a small chuckle. "Sorry about that, I'll get the rest. No worries." I began to head out of the room and passed the door with the tune, I turned around and pointed to the room with my thumb. "Is there-uh, anyone else here?" I asked in confusion. John took a moment before understanding what I was referring to, "Oh, no. That's just Dean. That's his room." He explained. "Playing music?" I asked. "Yeah, he does that. Can't sleep without it." He said casually and brushed passed me. He stopped for a moment and turned around. "Tip; don't ever turn it off." He chuckled and began walking again. That struck curiosity in me, but I knew it wasn't my place to ask. I hurried outside and brought my bags up to the room. It was getting late now. John and I sat on a couch in the living room, discussing everything I needed to know. "Always give him this pill once a day." He pointed to the list of prescriptions and chores needed to be done for Dean. "Only once a day, if he tries to tell you that he needs more do not listen to him. I say one a day, go by that. He knows not to argue with it once you say no. All of the pills are locked in a cupboard in the kitchen and I will give you the key to it in the morning." I nodded and he continued. "He needs to shower at least once every two days. If anything happens while he is showering you should know I removed the lock on it to keep the door unlocked at all times. If he breaks anything or threatens to don't worry about it, it's a normal thing and it dies down. Just give him some of these and he'll calm down if it gets to be too much." I responded a hesitant "Okay." and he began to talk once more. It kept on like this for another hour or so, so many rules and so many chores, warnings and things I needed to know. I knew it was too late to stop and leave now. Once he finished with everything on the list he sighed and paused, looking into my eyes. "Dean is-" He paused again. "He's a good kid, he wouldn't hurt anybody but himself and it's been so long. I take care of him every day and it's getting so difficult. I just need this business trip." He put his hands into his lap. His voice became hushed, "Does that make me a bad parent?" I put my hand on his shoulder clumsily. "Oh, no, no. John. This is completely normal. Everybody gets a little tired here and there. Don't be so hard on yourself." I reassured him. "You're right," He smiled. "thank you. I know you came on such short notice and this isn't normal. I just work at as a co-company runner, I don't know about any of this stuff. I saw your nursing ad and I figured since you were asking for the most money that you were the best. I didn't even read your memo." He confessed. "I have no idea what I'm doing here." I sighed. "Well, we'll do it as we go. I promise you that I will do my absolute best to take care of your son. You have my word. You can call me every day and I'll tell you everything that's going on. It'll be like you're right here." I smiled and pat him on the back. We sat in a moment of silence before popped up. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "Once a month a girl will come by, she will bring supplies and food, whatever you need will be what she brings. She's my shopper maid, her name is Lisa. She'll introduce herself-and no worries, I've already explained the situation with her." He cleared his throat and got off of the couch, stretching. "I think we should call it a night, I'll wake you up in the morning." He said yawning and handing me the sheet of paper. We both headed upstairs and he unlocked one of the doors, his, I assumed. "Goodnight, Castiel.-might want to lock your door." John whispered across the hallway as he shut his door. I heard a light click of the doorknob, he locked his door. As creepy as that was, I left the door open and turned around to a bed with fluffy blankets and warm pillows. It had been a long drive and I deserved some rest. I yawned, putting my bags in a large closet beside the bed. After ten minutes I turned off the lights and sighed into the sheets, tossing around and covering myself in the pleasant, cool feeling of the bed. It felt so nice after living with cheap sheets for so long on a bed that could barely hold itself up.

It didn't take long for my eyelids to get heavy, for my heart beat slow, and eventually, my breath became light and I passed out. What followed is one of the best nights of sleep I'd ever have.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel first meets Dean and John is on his way out the door, but Dean isn’t too happy about the situation and he isn’t afraid to show it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may be slow , but I’m going as fast as I can. Thanks for being patient :)

A knock on the door woke me up, frantic, I jumped out of the bed. My hand grasped the knob of the door and wing it open.

“I’m up! I am up.” I said to myself more than the person in front of me. Rubbing my eyes, I prepared myself for the harsh sunlight in the hallway. When I finally opened them I saw John, his hair was wet and falling over his face, jet black. He had just shaved, I could smell the faint scent of shaving cream and soap. He must’ve just showered. 

He smiled wide and chuckled. “Mornin’. It’s 8 a.m.” he said casually, handing me a key. I stretched and gave a light smile. “Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” I hummed. “Is this the key? For the cupboard?” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one. I don’t leave for another hour or so, but I figured I’d forget if I didn’t give you it now.” I gave an ‘oh’ expression and held the key tightly in my hand.

“Is he awake?” This was abnormal, waking up in a mansion, especially with people I don’t know. Nevertheless, my number one concern right now was the patient. “Not sure,” John admitted aimlessly. “He comes out of his room for breakfast which is at 8:30 a.m.” He chucked, “Get ready, hope you’re good at making breakfast.” 

Oh I was excellent at making breakfast.

I got ready, throwing on a white shirt, buttoning it up and putting on some jean pants. I tucked the key I had been given and slid it into my pocket, leaving the room. I couldn’t help but marvel at the house and how large it was as I made my way down to the kitchen. I tried to get it off my mind and act professional, I now only had 20 minutes to make breakfast. 

I searched the cabinets in the kitchen, one, of course, was locked. The rest had utensils, bread, sauces and spices. The fridge, however, was completely stacked with food. Meat and cheese, ham, even a Turkey. Then again, it was late October, thanksgiving would be coming up.

I let out a sigh. I rechecked the cabnits and found some pancake batter behind boxes of cereal. Looking at it, it wasn’t out of date and didn’t smell bad. Everything looked fine. I didn’t need a recipe for this, I knew exactly what I was doing. How could I not? I made Zach breakfast almost every morning.

I grabbed everything I’d need for making pancakes and once I did I turned on the stove. I hadn’t seen where John went since he handed me the key. It was now 8:15. He was probably getting ready to leave considering he only has 45 minutes.

“John?” I called out, looking towards the stairway. Maybe he wanted some pancakes before he left. There was surely enough. I grabbed a bowl and began pouring the ingredients in it. Once I finished I poured the first pancake in, letting it cook on the oil. I had to wait for a moment now, I glanced around the kitchen, I was curious. Neatly folded rags by the sink, unlit candles and a small red rose flower in a vase. I looked near the fridge, on the side of it was hanging an apron. My eyes lit up, oh fun that would be to put it on and roleplay the best chef in the world. I put it over my neck, tying it from the back. Wishing I had done it before, I already had some batter on my clothes.

The Pan was sizzling, or at least a little bit. I went over to the Pan and flipped the pancake. A beautiful brown glaze was on the top and I knew that if I wasn’t the greatest nurse, at least I’d be the greatest chef. I satisfactory smile made its way across my face because it was indeed very satisfying to see a nice pancake. I put some butter into the pan, not too much, but just enough to give it a nice taste. I had done this for the other side as well. 

I began humming a song, I wasn’t sure what the song was, but it was the one I heard last night. It was very catchy and while I slept I could faintly hear it from my room. I couldn’t get it off of my mind. I made it my goal to figure out what that song was.

As I hummed I danced a little, swaying side to side and flipping pancakes. I had already made three. I must’ve dozed off into the cooking because I ignored the obvious footsteps coming down the steps. From behind me I heard a voice. “Who the fuck are you?” I jumped and dropped the spatula. I turned around, seeing another man. It was not John. It was Dean! “Oh! Goodmorning. I’m making pancakes. John said you like breakfast?” I tried to make conversation while walking over to him. 

He had a defensive stance, harsh brows and dusty blonde hair. As I edged closer I could see green eyes, these lovely green eyes. I couldn’t wait to get to know him. I smiled and held out my hand. “I’m Castiel, it’s great to meet you.” I said firmly and smiled like I was seeing a puppy. It had been such a long drive, a night of sleeping and I was so ready to meet him. He looked up and down at me, a look of unbelievable disgust, as if I had just killed a kitten and offered it to him for dinner. 

“What kind of sick joke is this shit.” He said, rhetoricallly, I think. “What?” Was all I could say. I was confused, that was for sure. “What the fuck are you doing with that?” He raised his voice, storming out and up the stairs. Like if he had stayed for another second he’d rip me apart. I was left utterly confused. I suppose it was normal for him to be this way, but I assumed it was just actual anger. 

I awkwardly went back to making pancakes when a minute I heard yelling from upstairs. “You’re acting like she wasn’t even alive!” Yelled through the house, it was Dean. “And you’re acting like she isn’t dead, Dean! She’s dead! Okay? She’s dead!” John’s room was right above me, I could hear it so clearly. I pondered about what they were talking about. Who was dead? The yelling continued, but they were quieter o I couldn’t understand it. That is, until they came arguing down the stairs. 

“Goodmorning.” I gave a shy smile. “And that right there.” Dean pointed to me, “I don’t need this fucking do-gooder to take care of me.” He stomped into the living room. John gave me an apologetic look and smiled. “- uh, take off the apron.” He said quickly, walking into the living room. I did so, but the yelling did not stop. 

“What happened? You SAID that I could do this, you BELIEVED IN ME. You said you wouldn’t hire some fucking nurse- and what did you do? You hired a nurse!” I heard yelling clearly now, the words were obvious, they were talking about me. I awkwardly began putting the pancakes on plates. “Not only that! No- it’s a fucking MALE nurse. You didn’t even have the decency to hire a hot nurse. That’s not an actual nurse, you’ve got to be kidding me. I can take care of myself! I can.” He angrily laughed. “Dean.” John addressed him. “If you can go the month without causing problems or doing anything reckless..” I heard a sigh and expected him to finish the sentence, but it was only whispering. “Okay? Just try to get along with him.” John finally said. “Fine.” Dean groaned in conclusion. “Fine, but don’t expect me to be as fucking cheery as that little ‘angel’ in there.” 

I took that as a compliment. Once I was finished putting syrup and butter slices on the pancakes, I laid them on the small kitchen island. Dean walked into the kitchen, finally, and sat on a chair pulled up the the island. “I like peanut butter on my pancakes.” He said annoyed. “Well, that’s alright I can just put some on it.” I began to grab the plate, but he pulled it away from me. “No, you already put the syrup on there. What kind of idiot puts syrup and then peanut butter?” He asked rhetorically. “I need a fork.” And, just like he was the god, I grabbed him whatever he needed. “Here you go.” I put the fork on the plate. 

He was leaned on one arm. The hand resting on his cheek with such a sad face. He looked down at the pancakes as if they had just told him something horrible and morbid. “It’s nice to meet you.” I tried again, leaning against the island. “I’m Castiel.” I held out my hand. “Yeah. I know. You told me when you were wearing my mother’s apron.” He said sarcastically, digging his fork into the pancake. I stopped for a moment, trying to digest what that meant. I had met no mother, maybe she had gone away and there was some family damage in that area. Stupidly, I realized what a big ‘not a good idea’ that was. I should’ve just cooked the damn pancakes. “I’m sorry.” I said.

“They’re always sorry.” He sighed. “Always so sorry.” He made a joking face, mocking. “You REALLY mean it, mister? Do you? We will be friends forever now!” He said with fake excitement. “Listen, how about you just eat the pancakes and I’ll worry about what happens next, Alright? I got you. You don’t have to be upset. Just call down if you need anything.” I said, turning off the stove and putting the dirty dishes into the sink. Dean stayed silent, twirling his fork around the plate for distraction. I needed to talk to John. I needed to understand what was happening.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As John’s finally out of the house and Castiel is anxious to make Dean like him, but Dean is still hesitant.

I knocked on the door of John’s room, he made his way up stairs after I had served Dean his pancakes. “Hello?” I gave out a small call. It took a couple of seconds, but I could hear his footsteps stride to the door and the sound of it unlocking. It opened. “Something wrong?” He asked while he walked back into the room. I followed him into the room and sat down on the bed that was placed directly opposite of the door, facing straight into the hallway. “Not exactly.” I went on.

“Here, let me.” I finally blurted out as I watched John go back and forth between his closet and his suitcase, throwing things inside. It was unsettling to see. I moved his hands away and removed everything from the case. I began folding his clothes and putting them into the suitcase. “Oh, thanks.” He said as he sat down on the bed and let out a sigh, relaxing. There was tension in the air, I didn’t like tension at all. I folded at least ten clothes before I finally asked the question that I come up here for. “Why did he act like that?” My fingers traced the clothing, folding each piece with great detail. “What do you mean?” John replied with a question. “Downstairs, when he talked about me. Why did he act like that?” I went on, “Like he wasn’t expecting me to be here. He seemed surprised.” He was quiet for a moment. John huffed, massaging the back of his neck slowly. “I hadn’t told him. I knew that lying to him would the only way he’d calm down. He thought he’d be spending the time alone, but I know him. He wouldn’t last a week.” It wasn’t good to lie, but I had to listen to his advice I guess.

“You don’t think that telling him would’ve been better?” I questioned. “No,” he replied quickly. “god no. He would’ve lost it and done some stupid and irrational. One time I caught him jumping into the pool off of the roof. I thought it was him being a kid and having fun, you know? But he said he wanted to see if he could hit the pavement.” He paused. “Guess that’s when I really knew he wouldn’t be able to do many things alone.” A small “wow.” Was all I spoke as I finished the last of the folding. “He’s going to have a great time with me, don’t worry. We’ll find something to do.” I reassured him and smiled. It was true, we’d find something to do. Except I had no idea what it was going to be and I could already tell Dean had quite the hatred towards me already. I wanted to know about the mom. I was interested, but I knew asking about absent family members was not okay.

I made my way downstairs to greet Dean at the island, but to my surprise, he wasn’t there. His pancakes were half eaten and he was gone. The little island chair remained empty and the pancakes were cold. I hadn’t been gone for more than ten minutes, I was sure of it. “Dean?” I called out. No answer. “Dean?” I asked a little louder, looking around the first floor. “DEA-“ I began to shout, but as I came into the living room, there he was, watching the television on silent. “Jesus, yell my name any louder and the lovely elder lady next door will hear you.” I thought about that for a split second and assumed he was joking considering we were in the middle of no where. “There you are.” I sighed. “Thought you lost me? Thought that you sucked at this job? Trust me, you’ve already done horrible.” He chuckled a mean chuckle and leaned into the couch more, closing his eyes as if he were about to rest. I stood and looked at him. “Your pancakes sucked, dude.” He admitted through a sigh. “Now go away.” His eyes remained shut. I could tell he wanted to be alone. “Alright.” I said firmly and turned around.

Minutes had passed and I was about to say fairwell to John. We stood at the door. “You sure you don’t want any pancakes? I have an extra, I could heat it up.” I offered. “No, no. That’s alright, thank you.” He declined, “Take care of Dean.” He gave a light smile, “It’s what you’re paying me for.” I laughed, sliding open the glass door and helping him to his car. A personal driver, it must’ve been, a black limbo and shaded windows. Fancy, I thought. 

Waving, I watched them drive off and, once they did, I turned around and looked at the house. I gave a deep sigh and walked down the marbel pathway. I closed the door once I was inside and made my way to the living room. There sat Dean, head laid back and his body sprawled out on the couch. I sat beside him lazily and laid back as well. “You know, if you’re gonna suck up to my father you should at least try to be good at it.” He yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, you sure you don’t want some of my pancakes, made them just for you, what a dandy fucking day it is. There’s rainbows everywhere.” He mocked me. 

I sighed. “I was being nice.” I argued. “Would you like anything?” Sitting up, I asked. “Some peace and quiet would be just great.” He said ignorantly. “You being here is annoying the hell out of me, go upstairs or something.” He waved his hand at me, using his other hand to cover his face. “Go.”

Thirty minutes had passed and I was upstairs in my room, looking over the paper John had laid out so kindly for me. I read it carefully.

In the morning: (9:00 a.m.)  
Breakfast-he likes muffins and pancakes, but cereal will do. (Dean is not allergic to anything to feel free to go wild)  
-Make sure to give him the pill he needs for the day, (mixing it in with breakfast drink usually works).  
Try to entertain him- he loves board games, very competitive. He enjoys swimming too, as well as watching tv and eating. (DO NOT let him eat on the couch).

Afternoon: (12:30 p.m.)  
Lunch- There are pizzas in the freezer as well as precooked meals, so if you cannot cook good you are welcome to heat those up. We have a lot of food so don’t feel guilty if you eat a lot.  
-At this time Dean usually goes outside to be by himself, (do NOT bother him) he shouldn’t be outside for more than an hour, but he will come inside by himself.  
-I’m most likely in my room at this time, but once he comes inside offer him a drink (he loves orange juice).  
-feel free to relax until dinner unless he asks for anything.

Night (7:30 p.m)  
-It’s getting dark, make sure you already have dinner made by 7:30 p.m. Make sure he eats it.  
-after dinner give him two hours to hang around the house  
-once two hours is up he needs to take a bath, the locks on the bathroom doors have been undone just incase anything happens. If you think he’s in danger, feel free to walk in or call out his name. (He usually answers by the third time).

Sleep- (10:30 p.m.)  
-Dean has a lot of trouble sleeping, which is why I bought the record player for him to play his favorite song. (Never EVER turn it off under any circumstances unless he does it himself)  
-if the song isn’t playing after 20 minutes then he isn’t trying to sleep and he’s probably just sitting in there, don’t let him stay up

 

The list went on about other things, his likes and his dislikes, but I would read those later. An hour had already passed and I still had yet to give him his pill, I didn’t do it with breakfast. I grabbed my key and hushly made my way down the flight of stairs. Quietly unlocking the cabnit and reading the labels of the bottles for the right one, I tried not to be intrusive while he was relaxing. I did a small victory ‘yes!’ once I had found the right one. I picked it up and put one singular pill in my hand, then putting the bottle back in the cabnit and locking it up once more.

I wanted to mix it with a drink like John had said, so I opened the fridge and scavenged. Orange juice sat in the front, proud and bold just waiting for me to grab it. That would do just fine, I smiled victoriously, grabbing the juice and putting some of it in a cup. Crushing the pill, I put it in the cup and stirred it with a spoon.

“Here,” I said softly, handing him the cup. “your father said you liked orange juice.” Dean lifted his head relectently and opened his eyes. He stared at me in annoyance for a moment, then reaching his hand out for the glass and taking it from my hands. “Hopefully you put the pill in?” He said as he gulped down the bottle. I fiddled with my fingers, I felt as if I was drugging him. “Yes.” I said shy “I did.” He looked at my fingers and then up at me, his eyes peering into mine. “Good. So you’re not a complete idiot. Better than the last girl, poor thing couldn’t even make a cup of orange juice.” He stopped for a moment, in thought, then looking at me once again he brought his right hand to the couch and patted against it. 

“Sit with me.” He said. I obliged, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and facing towards him. “So,” he said, settling into the couch. “Your name again? Castiel, right?” I nodded. “Yes, yes. Castiel is my name. Your name is Dean.” I said. “Well obviously.” He scoffed, setting his glass on the coffee table in front of us. “What’s your favorite color?” I asked, he looked at me with a disgusted face. “Oh no, no, I’m not doing that kindergarten bullshit.” He said defensively, sighing. “My favorite color is green.” I said, ignoring his objection. “Really? We’re really doin- okay. Fine.” He looked into my eyes, thinking. After a moment he went on. “Blue.” He said. 

“Why blue?” I asked. “Why green?” He challenged with squinted eyes. I wasn’t really sure why I had chosen green, I had never taken a particular liking to green or any color for that matter. “Your eyes are green.” I stated. “You like my eyes?” He leaned in, his eyes growing wider. As he got closer I noticed the scatter of freckles on his face. “Yes, they’re nice.” I said, clearing my throat. “Your eyes are nice too.” He smirked, whispering in my ear, “they’re blue.” He went back to a normal stance. Dean backed away and picked up his glass, getting up and going into the kitchen. “Don’t make pizza for lunch.” His voice rang out as he washed his dish. “Fucking hate pizza.” I was shocked at how casual he was, I was near speechless, but I pulled myself together. “Alright.” I cleared my throat. “I can cook shrimp with some other things?” I gave a suggestion, getting up and straightening out my shirt. He chuckled. “Better than pizza.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean begin their first afternoon together. With Castiel on high alert for their first day, Dean will go to extremes to scare off Castiel from his job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to make my updates longer for every chapter. To make sure I have time for this I’m going to post a new chapter every Monday. :)

Pizza wasn’t as distasteful as Dean had said. I actually quite enjoyed pizza. Still, I had cooked the shrimp. The entire process was spent glancing at Dean as he watched me cook. I figured it was normal for him to do this, so I didint say anything, just sparing a few glances every minute or so. It continued on this way for the entirety of the cooking, but I put the plate on the table in front of him. He smiled and grabbed the fork, putting a mouthful on the fork and shoving it inside. He moaned into the fork, “Good?” I asked, very pleased with myself. “Better than the pancakes, that’s for sure.” He smiled.

“You know,” he pointed the fork at me, still chewing. “you haven’t eaten.” He said through a shrimp-filled mouth. “I’m not really hungry.” I said, sitting down beside him. “That’s a lie.” He looked down at his plate, poking at the food. “You didn’t eat last night, you came in too late. You didn’t eat anything for breakfast either.” He explained like he knew what I was doing at all times. I was taken aback. He was right, but I was surprised at how observant he was. “Well ye-“ I began to say, but he interrupted me, waving his hand as to silent me. “Just shut up. Here.” He held the fork in front of me with a large shrimp on the edge of it. I looked at him, lifting my eyebrows and looking back to the fork. “What?” I asked. “Eat it.” He responded, “Open.” Concern crossed my face and I could tell he saw because he sighed. “It’s not going to kill you, you cooked it yourself.”

I shook my head and he groaned, taking his other hand to my chin and pulling down. Suddenly, my mouth popped open and he put the shrimp inside, closing my mouth. Slowly, he pulled the fork out of my mouth. “Chew.” He demanded. I felt like a kid, and as a kid would, I found myself beginning to chew. It was good, he was right, butter and salt with other nice things sprouted in my mouth with such a lovely taste. “Well?” He said, “Told you it was good.” He smiled wide from one cheek to the other, licking the fork that had just been in my mouth. 

I swallowed the food awkwardly, his eyes never leaving mine. As it went down my throat, the pit in my stomach grew larger and larger until it was scraping the walls of my sides. His eyes held a mischievous glare that brought tension into the air that it was obvious what he was about to do. “Dean.” I addressed him with a caustioned voice, yet somehow his face was getting closer to mine within moments. “Dean!” I nearly tripped out of my chair while pouncing up and backing away. “I can’t do that.” I said with a shaky voice. Dean looked offended, scoffing, “Why? Because I’m a guy?” he said defensively. “No.” I raised my voice, running my hands through my hair with shaky fingers. “Because I’m your freaking caretaker.” Dean ignored my obvious distress and got up, taking quick, careful strides towards me. “So don’t be. Quit. I can’t stop thinking about you since I saw you last night. Your body and stuff, you’re so hot.” He licked his lips. “It’ll be easy, I’ll do you right on this table, anywhere you want, any way you want. All you have to do is quit.” He worked his hands around my waist, pulling at my shirt. It was only then, when he was looking me in the eyes, did it hit me. “..Quit?” I said, removing his hands. “You want me to quit.” I said in thought. “You’re not attracted to me, you just want me to quit.” We shared an equal expression of realization. He looked into both of my eyes for a moment, trying to spare some time. The caring expression he had was gone, just like that. What was in its place was an annoyed, childish face. He backed away.

“It was worth a try.” He rolled his eyes, slumping back down into his chair, poking at the left over food on his plate. “Get me some juice, will you?” I was dumbfounded, frozen for a moment. I was speechless, trying to replay in my mind what just happened. It took me a couple of seconds to finally mutter out something, but when I finally did I was definitely upset. “Juice?” I sarcastically said. “You want juice?” I was shocked that he was willing to do that just to get me to quit. “Yeah. Juice.” He looked back at me, seeing the concern on my face, he pursed his lips in a ‘really?’ look, as if he thought I was being dramatic about the situation. “Don’t get all flustered like that and give me that face. Okay? I just don’t fucking like you. It’d be better if you just quit now than have me keep trying. It would be better for both of us.” He admitted this while stabbing at the plate with his fork, “Don’t act so offended, you’re not the first.” He mumbled to himself, but it was clear what he said “Hell, some freaks actually took up my offer.” 

I wanted to yell at him and tell him how wrong it is to use someone like that. I’d seen bipolar before and that was not it, if anything he was a freaking sociopath. A sociopath indeed. The worst part was the heat that I had felt from that, unfortunately I was actually turned on. I knew if I looked down I’d clearly see a bulge in my pants along with shaky fingers. 

“That was-“ I tried to catch my thoughts. “horrible. That was a horrible joke.” I managed to say, walking to the fridge and grabbing some orange juice. He laughed and looked over his shoulder at me. “Oh, it wasn’t a joke at all. I would’ve fucked you on this table, no doubt. You would’ve enjoyed it, too, moaning and groaning.” He got up with an empty plate, putting it in the sink. He stood beside me, smirking. “My offer still stands if you’re interested.” I almost threw the orange juice at his face, but instead I clenched the glass and put it on the table. “Just drink your orange juice, Dick.” “Dick?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows as if he were surprised that I had said that, like he was slightly amused. I turned my back to him and began going upstairs. “Sorry,” sarcasm leaked out of my mouth. “I meant Dean.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean finally get through the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be some errors in this as I didn’t double check, but do not mind them and enjoy the chapter. :)

I sat in the bed, the messed up bed that I hadn't had the time to clean up. I'd just do it, I thought. I'd get through these long weeks and I'd be done. I'd get all of the money and be on my way, that nice apartment waiting for me with food in the cabinets and clothes in my drawer. A nice home. 

Just get through it. 

What a horrible person he was. He was an absolute monstrosity, but he was my patient. Anger ran through me, not much anger but just enough that I sat up in the room, pacing around and cleaning things until everything was spotless and all of my clothes were folded perfectly in the drawers. Everything was cleaned. Now all I could do was think, for thirty minutes, I thought. 

What the hell am I doing? 

It had been around forty minutes since I had went upstairs, the piece of paper said that Dean would go outside. Don't go outside, John said, only offer him orange juice when he comes back in. After the first twenty-minutes Dean started screaming his lungs out, not in pain, but more so anger. I was worried at first, rushing to the window only to see Dean outside and punching the ground. He took an axe and slammed it against a tree, then at the ground. He fell to the ground and screamed.

After that he got up and ran down the road, I hadn't seen him since. 

At the fifty mark I went down stairs and began to wash the dishes. There weren't many so I decided to do them now instead of later. After I did that I made a sandwich and poured a glass of orange juice. The sandwich was for me, of course. I was very hungry. The juice, however, was for Dean. He would be home soon, and, as soon as I thought that, I could hear the sound of glass sliding. I grabbed my sandwich the and orange juice and began walking past the living room and to the door. There was Dean, sweating and out of breath. He held his hand out for the drink, I walked quickly and handed it to him. His face was red, but he lifted himself up and drank the entire glass right before my eyes.

He sighed and leaned against the glass wall. I began eating my sandwich and walking away. "Wait, Cas." Dean said, I stopped in my tracks. Cas. Zach was the only one who had called me Cas, a nickname of sorts when he got too lazy to say my full name; he said it rolled off the tongue and it was better. I winced when I heard it, almost like a stab wound being pressed in by pins and needles. I looked over my shoulder, not turning around fully. "Yes, Dean?" I managed to say barely above a whisper, but somehow it was so loud in the empty house that I could've sworn it echoed through the walls. He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry." He replied shortly, "What I did earlier was really.." the words mumbled out of his mouth "it was really fucked up. I feel bad about it and I'm sorry." I turned my head to face forward and gave a small "It's alright." before continuing on to the kitchen. "Sorry for calling you a dick." I said, he chuckled and followed behind, "No you're not." "You're right." I smiled to myself. "I'm really not." He gave a little laugh and I did as well.

Dean sped up beside me, "I've been thinking," he began "we should do something." We entered the kitchen and he sat at the island. I glanced at him and gave a small smile. "Do something? Like what?" I took another bite of my ham and cheese sandwich. 

He shrugged and placed the glass on the counter. "Not sure, something relaxing and nice. I'm give out." He leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. "Well, a shower would be good. You're sweaty and you stink." I gave out a suggestion. "A shower?" He popped his head up. "It's not even eight yet. Why the hell would I shower now?" He asked rhetorically, shyly lifting up his arm and smelling his armpit. He scrunched up his nose and gagged. "Oh my god, Jesus Christ." He groaned "Fine, Fine. Go get me some clothes. I'll hop in." He got up from his chair and paraded upstairs, marching to a nonexistent beat. 

He seemed better after going outside. Which for me, was good. I watched him hassle up the stairs, hearing him open the bathroom door and closing it. When I heard the water turn on I knew he had started, I finished eating my sandwich while he took a shower. 

After a minute or two I took my last bite and walked up the stairs, opening the door to his bedroom slowly. It was a mess, clothes on the floor, unmade bed, open drawers and the closet wide open. I scrunched my nose in disgust, pure disgust at how unkept he was with  himself. The horrible smell of sour clothes drenched the room from top to bottom and slapped me in the face as I opened the door. Still, I pulled through and walked over the dirty clothes, looking inside one of the drawers. Pants, underwear, shirts; they were all scattered together. "How disgusting." I mumbled to myself.

I picked up some clothes that would be comfortable, plaid pajama pants and a light blue t-shirt. I wasn't sure what he enjoyed wearing, but I thought this would do the trick. Going back into the hallway I stopped at the bathroom door, hearing the harsh splatter of water hitting the bathtub floor. I gave a knock and no answer was heard, I knocked harder, plastering my knuckles against the door."Yeah?" A yell came from behind the door that rung louder than the rushing water. "I have your clothes." I yelled back, creaking open the door and keeping my eyes to the floor, I placed the clothes on the sink. 

Even though I knew I didn't have the guts, the butterflies in my stomach begged me to look up. I knew I'd see shower curtains, but the thought of what I might see twisted my stomach inside out and made my heart go faster than I wanted it too. That maybe, just maybe, I'd see him there, shampooing his hair and moving around so beautifully, his hands through his hair and his head aimed up at the shower head. "I'm putting the clothes on the sink, alright?" I said not waiting for an answer, I decided I needed to get out of there. "Got it." He responded as I left the bathroom and went back into the hallway. I entered my room and sat down on the bed. My mind raced and I wanted to smash my head against the wall, what he did earlier really got to me. It was such a stupid and small thing, but it got to me. I hated the feeling of being trapped in this house taking care of him and it was only the first day.

I was so stressed with anxiety that I began to feel tired. It wasn't long before I leaned back into the soft cushion and let my rush of the day slip out of my mind. My heart beat became slower and my breath became light, I slipped into the bed as my mind shuffled and my eyes fluttered. My body drifted away into slumber, the pillow feeling like a cloud of cotton.

*an hour and a half later*

Something itched at my nose, brought my hand to it, scratching. It stopped but a moment later there it was again. I didn't move, waiting for it to happen again. Surely enough, something tapped my nose. I shot my eyes open and flung my hand out to grab it.

My hand grabbed around Dean's arm as he jumped in shock from my sudden movement. As soon my eyes settled on his face my fear turned to annoyance. "Really?" I groaned. "Was that necessary?" He began laughing and choking on his words. "Jesus, dude, that was some panther action. You should've seen yourself." His laugh faded, but the smile remained on his face. "That was great, but it's like 8:30 and I'm getting hungry." Eight-thirty? I jumped out of bed and glanced at my phone that laid at my bedside. He was right, it read eight-thirty. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I questioned, removing the covers from over my body and standing up tall. "Well," he shrugged "you looked so peaceful." Ignoring him, I rolled my eyes with a long sigh. My arms stretched to the ceiling as I tried to wake myself up, "What would you like for dinner?" I asked. I relaxed my body a little and waved my hand at Dean, signaling him to follow me down the hallway. 

He hadn't answered my question, just following me down the stairs and into the kitchen. Once we got there he simply sat on the island chair, his eyes peering at me. "You gonna tell me what to cook?" I asked persistently. He kept quiet, a goofy smile from ear to ear stretched along his face. "What?" I questioned, I didn't like the look he was giving me. "Is there something on my face? Why're you looking at me like that?" I turned away from Dean, looking through the cabinets to distract myself. The more I searched through the many places, the more I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck. I twisted around with both of my hands on either side of my hip, glaring at him. "Seriously, Dean. Stop staring."

He cocked his head back and smiled, "Jeez, Cas. That's not very professional. You're not supposed to be rude to your patient." My voice became distant, "I don't like that. Don't call me that. It's Castiel, just Castiel. Okay?" He was right, after all, I hadn't been very professional. If I had acted this way anywhere else I'd be fired on the spot. He looked me up and down, as if he were trying to read my mind. Squinting his eyes, he looked curious. "Why?" Dean asked, I sighed. "Why?" I snapped. "Why do you ask so many questions?" He leaned back in his chair, "I'm bipolar, I ask a lot of things and usually don't make any sense. I'm fucking crazy. Right? That's what everybody says, anyway." his eyes stared at the counter top. "I'm sorry." I sighed, leaning against the counter. "I'm really sorry, I just, someone I know used to call me that." "Oh." He said, "I didn't know." I flung my hands up, "I know, I know you didn't know. I'm sorry for getting angry." I explained. "Just- what- what would you like for dinner?"

"Honestly?" He stretched, "Not really hungry, but if you're going to make some food you have to eat it as well." Getting out of the chair, he walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a bag of chips. I grabbed his hand, “Hey,” I stopped him “you can’t just eat junk food for dinner.” I snatched the chips from him and put them back in the cabinet. “I’ll make a sandwich if you’re not that hungry, but I won’t have you eating junk food. Go sit.” I insisted. “Fine.” He did so, taking a seat.

I fixed dinner and served it. We both remained quiet with nothing much to talk about. Once he finished I gathered the plates and washed them, turning around to the kitchen island I realized he was already gone. After 10 minutes I was done with the dishes. Walking around the house, I turned off all the lights one by one. After that there wasn’t anything left to do for the day except sleep, so, lazily I dragged my tired body up the stairs and into the dark hallway. I passed by Dean’s room.

A melody, there it was. The same melody from last night. It was a beautiful song, soft and slow, something that was easily stuck in your head. I could still hear it through the walls as I shut my door and laid in the bed. My phone screen shined bright in the dark as I set my alarm for six in the morning. Shutting off the phone I rolled over, soundly dozing off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the weeks pass, Cas notices that Dean is a little distant. One night he hears Dean sneak outside, curious, Castiel follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m aware that I went on hiatus, but I wrote a small sexy scene for you guys to enjoy. Not too much, just a tease for you guys that have been waiting.

The days passed slower than usual, but by the time I noticed it was already the end of the week. I'd spent the days doing as I was told and following the list, I could tell Dean was growing tired of me by his constant lack of communication. He'd drag around as if he were doing chores. We made little to no conversation and the days were the same. Still, I did what I usually did every morning.

I got out of bed an hour earlier than breakfast time so I could take a warm shower before the day started, I had no time to myself for the rest of the day. Grabbing clothes and a towel, I headed to the bathroom in the hallway. When taking a shower I'd always flip off the lights, cloaking myself in the dark so I wouldn't have to see myself, I found it more comforting. It released all of my stress. I hummed as I turned on the water and removed my clothes, hopping in the shower and closing the sliding glass door.

The warm water from the shower knob pranced against my skin. It washed down my back, soothing my worries and anxiety. The water hitting the bottom of the tub was loud like the ocean coming down against the sand. After I finished cleaning myself I pulled back the glass slide door, turning off the water and blindly reaching my hand out in the cool air for the soft towel I had laid down minutes before. I wrapped it around my waist after drying myself and tiptoeing off of the cold bathroom floor; the cold air rushed to my body as I emerged from the bathroom and into the hallway. Still with a towel wrapped around my waist, I took quick strides through the hall and quickly to my door, but not before hearing a slight creak from behind me further down the path of rooms. My heart skipped a beat and I whipped my head around to the end of the hallway. It sounded like pressure on one of the stairs, like someone that heavily leaned against the step.

I couldn't see around the corner though, the stairs were out of my view. Curiosity ran through me, but my heart was beating too fast from the sound of it that I couldn't move, my eyes only stared at the end of the hallway for any movement but there was nothing. I waited a moment for anything, another sound, to see someone, anything at all that would confirm my fear. I almost dared to say something, but my voice was too weak to try that nothing came out, I hurriedly walked into my room and locked the door behind me.

After getting dressed I sneaked outside for one last time to scout the area, nothing in sight but white walls and brown doors. Once seeing that there was no immediate danger I simply brushed it off and convinced myself that it was probably the house creaking, though it wasn't exactly an old house I managed to believe it.

It was already time for breakfast by the time I had decided to go downstairs. I walked down the hall and proceeded down the staircase, as I approached the kitchen I came upon Dean. Sitting down in a chair, he gulped down a glass of orange juice and stuffed cereal into his mouth.

"Dean," I addressed him, shock slightly present in my voice. I didn't expect him to be down here yet, let alone already eating food. He didn't spare me a glance, ignored me even, turning his head slightly away from me. "Dean?" I repeated. "Are you alright?" He was hesitant, holding the spoon full of food in front of his face and letting his eyes catch mine for just a moment. For a split second I could see something in his eyes, that split second of change in those green orbs. "Yeah, I'm good." He croaked, noticing, he cleared his throat and tried once more. "I'm good." I gave an 'okay' and walked into the kitchen. I kept my eyes on him as I grabbed another bowl for me. "I didn't know you were awake, I apologize." I began to fix my bowl of cereal and sat down next to him. "You could've called me down, I would've fixed you some eggs or something." He shrugged and let out a some-what sigh, "Well I don't really like eggs, so don't worry about it. Cereal is fine."

We sat in silence for a moment, finishing our meal. Dean finished before me, heading into the living room. "Wait," I called to him. He stopped and turned around, waiting for me to say something. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I'll make you something great. Whatever you want." I gave a light smile and began to wash the bowls. He mumbled something as he walked off and I couldn't quite make out what he had said, but I let it be and finished the dishes.

I was about to relax after I had finished the dishes but I remembered. The pills, I hadn't given him his pills. I grabbed some water and took a pill from the bottle, re-locking the cabinet and finding Dean on the couch. "Here." I held out the pill and water bottle. He glanced at me and then down to the ground. "I-uh, I already took it." He said casually. I lifted my eyebrows in a sarcastic expression. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want to lie to me." He was hesitant, but after a moment he gave in and groaned. "Fine." Dean frustratingly grabbed the items out of my hand and put them into his mouth.

Gulping down the glass quickly, he put it back in my hand. I couldn't help but feel accomplished, I goofily smiled to myself in victory. I put the cup in the sink and gave him some space to relax, going upstairs and scrolling through messages on my phone that I had possibly missed. Nothing at all except for pointless spam emails. Disappointing, but I didn't exactly expect anything more.

-

Pizza was cooking in the oven as 7:00 p.m. came around. Lunch had passed and all of the daily routines played out as they had the same way over the course of the week. Lunch was quiet. Dean had gone upstairs to cool off, but as soon as I pulled out the pizza from the oven he bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen, the smell of slightly burned pizza filled the house. "Pizza? Is that pizza?" He hummed with glee and took a big whiff of the smell straight into his nose. "I could use some damn pizza right about now." He couldn't see my face, but hearing him like that made me smile ear to ear. "It does smell good." I chimed in with his happy tone. I cut it up and served them on two plates. "Oh yeah." Dean nodded to himself, "this looks great." He grabbed the plate and began munching on it. We started eating and, like lightening, within a few moments he gobbled it all down.

Suddenly I remembered something from the beginning of the week, "Didn't you say you hated pizza?" I asked. He gave a quick glance of 'oh well' whilst leaning back in his chair. "That was before, I love pizza now." I shrugged and gave an "Okay." even though I found his change in likings to be funny, but as many times before I finished my food and gathered our plates.  
*  
Dean and I were doing our own tasks when half past eleven came around. I assumed he was asleep, but when I heard his door creak open I paused what I was doing. I squinted my eyes and listened closely, remaining as quiet as possible. What the hell was he doing out of bed? I wondered, laying down the phone I had through scrolled while sitting in bed.

I slowly got up, sneaking to my door and putting my ear against it. Not much was heard except some small ruffling around. I could distinctly hear Dean going down the stairs, my concern grew as I noted a faint sound of sliding door.

It went quiet and the air grew cold.

I slowly sneaked out of my room and into the hallway. The hallway, being dark without windows or lights, was creepy enough for me to hustle past the doors and down the stairs. I looked around, my eyes scanning past the vacant rooms. "Dean?" I whispered cautiously, I waited a moment but there was still no answer. I tip-toed past the living room and looked at the back glass door. It was wide open. Outside was a neon blue light illuminating from the pool, the lights never went off in the pool mainly because I had no clue how to turn them off and I'd sound like an idiot to ask Dean about such a simple thing.

I stepped outside, the cold air hit me harsh like a rushing wind, sending chills up my back. My toes hit the cold concrete like ice. My eyes instantly landing on the water, someone was swimming in the pool. Immediately I identified it as Dean. Mainly because it was a fenced in back yard and we sat in the middle of no where.

He was gliding through the water so quickly, perfectly, almost. He emerged from the blue surface, his fingers clinging onto the wet, concrete floor. I stood right above him as his eyes looked up to mine. It took him a moment, but a smirk spread across his lips with an evil attention.

"Hey Castiel." The words seeped out of his mouth so casually. His green eyes seemed to shine under the pool water's light, I sighed, letting go of air that I didn't realize I was keeping inside. "Hello Dean." I said back as I fiddled with my fingers, tightly squeezing my thumb in my hand. Seeing him without a shirt was normal, I mean it was completely normal for this. So why did I feel like my face was burning? I didn't want to intrude what he was doing, he seemed fine.

"Hello??" Dean rushed me out of my thoughts as quickly as I entered them. I awkwardly cleared my throat. "Sorry, what?" I asked after not hearing the question, he repeated. "I said are you getting in?" Getting in? Am I getting into a pool with my patient who is also very attractive and could also get me fired from a job that will definitely be once in a lifetime? "Alright." My voice croaked. As I began getting in he attempted to stop me for a moment. "You know, people usually don't wear shirts in pools. Take it off." He was wrong, many people, in fact, do wear shirts in pools. Even though that may be true I slowly took off my shirt, revealing myself. Dean kept his eyes on me as I awkwardly threw the shirt towards the sliding door. There was a moment of silence as he looked me up and down as if he were investigating me. My breath was shaky, the air was cold against my naked back. I shuddered and walked towards the pools stairs, walking in. Surprisingly, the pool water was a lot warmer than I had expected, like a mild-jacuzzi. Once I was full way in the water I relaxed into it, it melted my bones and made my skin feel like thin sheets of paper. It felt amazing. I hummed with happiness. "This feels good." I managed to blurt out, Dean gave a chuckle, probably seeing my obvious comfort and bliss. "Yeah?" I was leaning against the side of the pool, keeping myself above the water by clinging onto the concrete. "Yeah." Of course I could swim, but I was too scared to turn around. I was afraid because I could clearly feel his eyes on the back of my neck, looking at me intently. I was nervous. I could feel the water move, the tiny splashes grew louder.

I slowly turned my head around and my assumption was right. There he was, floating behind me, now in front of me. His eyes were so pretty, they were so green. I could see the freckles the spread across his face and over the bridge of his nose. It was so quiet for a moment, so quiet that neither of us were even breathing in that moment. "You ever want something that you can't have?" He finally spoke. "Something you're so close to, but it seems so far away." His hands found their way to my hipbones, tenderly wrapping around. I gulped harshly, my mouth felt dry. "No, I don't think I have." He edged closer to me, our faces so close we were almost touching, just barely grazing. "Then you'd be lying." I wet my lips with my tongue, looking at his lips. I was sure they were so soft, like rose petals or clouds, like something in a movie. If I dared to put my hands on him I'm sure his skin would be smooth and warm. His tongue licked over his lips, causing me to bite mine in temptation.

"Give me something," he pleaded, "give me anything." His hands pulled my waist closer to his. "I can't stop thinking about you, Cas. Do you feel anything when I hold you like this?" His lips got closer to mine, they were about to touch. I could feel the heat of his breath on me. I wanted to say yes I feel many things, Dean. I feel many, many things. My heart was pounding, like a race car, it was going so fast that I could barely think straight. "I don’t know," was all I could say, I wanted to say something, something that made sense, but no sense was to be made as I found my hands wrapping around his torso and gripping onto his skin.

"This is impossible." I whispered to myself, but Dean, only being a thread of hair way from me, heard what I said. "All things are possible, Cas. It's simply a matter if you're able to do them or not." 

His eyes met mine, hovering over my lips, brushing against them so softly. Just like that, he threw his lips on mine, kissing me with such force and passion. I was frozen for a moment, but once I figured out what was happening I couldn't help but kiss him back. 

Our lips intertwined like rose petals and I let my fingertips trail his soft skin all the way up to his face. I let my hands rest on his cheek. His mouth interlocked with mine so dominantly that it made my stomach twist and turn from arousal. It felt like my insides were filled with butterflies. He bit onto my bottom lip, slowly dragging it away. It was the best feeling I had ever felt. My mouth tingled and pulsed as if it had its own heartbeat.

I was breathing heavily as his hands searched my skin, they were cold and caused me to get goosebumps over my entire body. When I felt the goosebumps ride up my back I let out a small gasp that didn’t go unnoticed. Dean looked to me. “You okay?” He asked in a whisper. I nodded my head with closed eyes. ”Yes, kiss me.”

He continued, finding my now shivering lips once again. He was gentle for a moment, letting our lips go back in forth softly. He held me closer, his tongue slipping inside mine, searching the inside of my mouth. Pressing his hands to either side of my face, he edged his waist closer to mine. I could feel his very obvious bulge press against my crotch. I knew he knew that I could feel him when he began rubbing our bodies together. My entire body jumped at the feeling of it. I gripped onto him tighter as I felt my tense against the feeling.

His lips were just as soft as I had imagined, he sighed into the kiss with relief. Squeezing tighter, I pulled his face off of mine, taking a big gulp of air. I felt like I'd been holding my breath for years. He smirked lightly seeing my struggle, but my eyes held shut, completely high off of the feeling.

The pool side pressed against my back as Dean wound his arms around my waist once more, whispering against my neck. "I've been watching you." The words caught my attention, but so did the nice smell of his neck, it smelled like cheap shampoo and chlorine. "Seeing you getting out of the shower in just that towel, soaking and practically naked. I couldn't help but want you." He went on. "I wanted to touch you." He confessed.

After Zach I convinced myself I’d never have something like this again, but I was beginning to doubt that thought now. I brought him back into another kiss, this time it was soft and gentle, quiet. My arms were tied around his neck, pressing him closer and closer with every kiss. The only thing heard was small splashing in the water along with Dean's labored breath. His hands slowly trailed down my waist and clenched onto the hem of my shorts, seeping his hands under them and grabbing onto my ass. He gripped tightly, massaging them with his careful fingers. The feeling was odd, it had been too long since 

I'd felt this, all of this. Memories were flooding back to me, Zach, when he used to hold me like this, touch me like this. My breath hitched as Dean let go of the kiss and began trailing his lips down my neck. His lips found their way to my nipple, he looked up, looking for any sign that I was in discomfort. I was nervous as he brought his hand up my nipple and played around with it. He twisted it between his fingers, pulling it and repeating the action until my breath became light and fast.

I groaned and looked away, I thought he would say something about my odd sounds, but he didn't, he kept quiet. Slowly, he brought his mouth to my nipple, wrapping his lips around it and swishing his tongue in circles. He sucked softly on one, twisting the other.

Suddenly he bit onto my nipple and raked it with his teeth, immediately I felt all the blood rush down to my dick, I took a deep breath, giving out a shaky, ragged breath. My body felt like it was on fire, burning fire in my entire body.

He stopped and let his lips trail down my stomach. He was at edge of the water before he whispered something against my skin. "I don't want you to move." His voice was low and demanding, I nodded. My blood was rushing fast as I felt his fingertips trail up my leg, dragging his nails across my skin. Once he finally got to my shorts he pulled them off without hesitation. 

I wanted to say something, apologize for being so disgusting, saying that I wasn't feeling well, saying something that would make him stop and we could forget this happened. But before I knew it his hands gently grabbed onto my dick, rubbing up and down with his firm hands. Every pump felt like a wave of heat. I gasped and held in the air, clenching onto his shoulders, my body felt like a furnace and the cold air was the only thing keeping me from letting go right then. 

How humiliating it would be to come already just from his touch. God, I wanted to though, I really did. Dean took in a deep breath and suddenly he was submerged under the water. I didn't understand why at first until his tongue slowly licked the slit of my dick. "Holy shit." I gasped as my hands clenched against the pool side for dear life. My head dipped back against the cement, pressing it down hard. His lips wrapped around me, taking me in his mouth and twirling his tongue around my cock. I could feel my dick twitching under his touch, it was an aching pulse, but Dean's lips made it feel so much better as he began going back and forth. 

He was slow at first, but he eventually took all of me in his mouth and sucked hard against me, bobbing his head back and forth quickly. I was a mess, moaning harshly and working my hips into his mouth. I was already hard. "God, fuck." I moaned, aiming my head to the sky. I wanted to come, I was so very close. I wanted to come in his mouth and I wanted him to swallow it all. I wanted him to tell me that he liked it. My hands found his hair and as soon as I did I gave it a harsh tug to tell him to go faster. 

Dean took me out of his mouth and immediately I was yearning him again, but he took his hand and gently rubbed me up and down. He came up from out of the water and took a large breath. My voice was weak and fragile, but I managed to speak. "Why’d you stop?" I asked, basically a beg for him to keep going. He gave a breathless chuckle, "I needed air." And even though I was lost in the feeling of him still touching me I remembered that he was in fact under the water when he was mouth fucking me. He got closer to my ear, kissing my neck. His hand became faster, going back and forth on my pulsing area. 

"Fuck." I moaned, shooting my head backwards and rocking in motion with his hand. My hand gripped his shoulder tightly. “Go faster.” I begged in a whisper. My eyes barely crept open to see Dean mildly surprised. "You have a dirtier vocabulary than I thought." He smirked. "Faster." I said, focusing on the feeling, every movement was like a dream, like a little piece of heaven seeping into my body. I pumped myself into him. 

Dean removed his hand, rubbing his thumb over my lip. I groaned in annoyance. "Please don't stop." I pleaded. "Please don't stop, I'm so close, Dean." I went to bring my hand down to my dick and fuck myself off, but Dean stopped me, grabbing my hand and holding it by my side. I whimpered in protest. "Cas, relax. Okay? I got you." Dean caressed my neck. "I got you." He whispered to himself. He took another deep breath and his head went under the water. Oh my god did it feel amazing when his lips wrapped around me once more. 

I was frozen with pleasure. I moaned lightly, but he licked up down, scrapping his teeth lightly against my dick. "Fuck, Zach." Hearing his name come out of my mouth was shocking, but somehow it brought back memories that made me so hot and heavy. The feeling was so much, too much, I released it all into Dean. My body spasmed as I let out a grunt, eyes shut tightly. I could feel him moan, the vibrations sending chills up my spine. I was breathing hard, light headed and scrawny. His head bobbed out of the water, his eyes inspecting my body as I barely managed to catch my breath.

"Jeez, that was quick." He lifted his eyebrows. "How long has it been? Since you've done this?" I laughed at his question, a weak chuckle escaping from my mouth. "Too long." He laughed, licking his lips. "Figures." he agreed. "I just swallowed so much chlorine." Dean laughed to himself, wiping the water from his mouth. I wanted to laugh, but I was utterly embarrassed. I felt bad, he did all the work and he’s probably still hard. “Are you?” I asked looking down to his crotch. He let out an awkward laugh, “Yeah.” He said, obviously embarrassed. I bit my lip lightly, looking up at him. “Do you want me to take care of it?” I asked, letting my fingers play with his swimsuit. 

There was something in his eyes, an emotion that I couldn't quite understand, he smiled lightly. “No, it’s okay. It’ll go away eventually. You don’t need to worry about it.” 

I shook my head, letting my hands hide my face. "Why did I let this happen?" I asked to myself. Dean must've not understood because he answered. "I wanted to see what you tasted like. And you, Cas," He brought his lips to mine, licking my top lip, leaving a warm wetness. "You taste so fucking good." Hearing that made my cheeks grow hot, but I looked away. “And I don’t know what you think but,” he paused, “I don’t regret it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He said, placing a kiss on my forehead. Oh how so hardly I fell for him in that moment. That simple kiss meant much more to me than any action or any word he could possibly muster.

I wanted to say something, but nothing came out. I wanted to tell him he tasted good as well, I wanted to tell him that I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted to kiss him again. 

"I'm exhausted." Was all that I managed to mutter from under my breath. I think he expected me to say something different as he sighed and backed away from me. He grabbed my shorts, which were floating around in the pool, and gave them to me. I put them on easily seeing as they were loose pants to wear to bed, basically like boxers. "Hold onto me." He said and I did, wrapping my arm around his neck as he lifted me out of the pool and carried me into the house. Halfway up the stairs I rolled my eyes weakly and smiled. "I'm not crippled, Dean."

"Maybe not, but I like doing this." He smiled to himself. We were in my room by the time I opened my eyes. God I was so tired. I rolled over in the bed and felt warm cover drape across me. I was too tired to feel a soft hand caress my cheek and cuddle in beside me, I was too tired to realize it was Dean.

Too tired to realize that when I woke up, I'd realize how stupid I was.


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up to the sound of thunder, lightening. I was absolutely terrified of it, it was loud and deafening. Looking out the window near the bed I could see it was still dark out. My eyes remained half shut and groggy. I could feel the warmth, the pressure of a snugged hold, hands wrapped under my arms and gripped onto my chest. The memories—everything—it all came back to me slowly. I was about to get up but I couldn't help it, I loved this feeling. I missed it; more than anything. I pressed back up against him and hummed, snuggled tightly and perfectly wrapped. 

Dean's hands were lightly pressed against my chest, looking down I smiled to myself. This was nice. This was really nice. I brought my hand up and slid it softly into his, they fit perfectly. Of course they did. His grip tightened and I wasn't sure if it was subconscious or not. Either way I didn't give it any mind and turned over to rest my head on his chest. I found peace in the rhythm his breathing, it was light and slow like waves in the ocean. I stayed up for a couple more minutes, planting a soft kiss on his skin and rubbing my thumb over his knuckles until I passed out.

*  
When I woke up once more the comfort and warmth was gone. I was alone. I couldn't describe how painful it was to lay with someone and wake up with them gone. My first thought; I'm insane. What the hell was I doing? 

I hopped out of bed hastily and tiptoed like a feather down the hall and to the front of Dean's door. I could hear the music playing. Suddenly a horrifying thought passed through my head, did this even happen? Was that a dream?

It felt real.

Should I ask Dean? What if it didn't happen? Asking him would be way too desperate. In a way, though, I was desperate. No, no. That was such a stupid, stupid idea. Idiotic, even. I'll just pretend it didn't happen. Simple as that. If Dean doesn't say anything then I sure as hell won't. Jesus Christ it had only been a week and I'm already fucking up

*

I began to get on a shirt and some pants, ignoring the fact that the boxers I had on were wet and smelled of chlorine. It was 7:53 a.m. not too early but I wish I could sleep in bed all day. 

I walked downstairs and began to make pancakes with some strawberries, blueberries and a glass of orange juice. I also made bacon with eggs. As I finished making the eggs and bacon I thought to myself; I'm not trying to win him with food, I'm not, he just deserves a healthy breakfast. Everyone does. Is this too generous of food? 

That's nonsense, it's just food.

But I would never do this for the last person I cared for, or the person before that, or anyone. Except Zach, though.

No. No.  
I threw the eggs and bacon in the trash hastily.

"Why did you just throw that out?" I heard from behind me. Startled, I swirled around to face Dean who was rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms wide. I panicked, "uh, burnt." I smiled nervously, shrugging. "Never really been good at making eggs." I grabbed his pill from the cabinet and stirred it in his drink, handing him the orange juice casually.

"Eggs?" He questioned "I was talkin' about the bacon. You made eggs too?" As he walked up to the table his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "And.. pancakes?" He smiled, giving out a breathless chuckle. "Thanks." He took a bite of the pancake, and then a bite out of a strawberry. As he chewed his smile grew wider. "Wow. That's-uh- delicious. Good. Better than the trash you've been making recently." He said bluntly. I was taken aback, trash? Was my food really that bad? I always ate after he went outside, I tried it, many many times. And the food was great. "What's the motivation?" He asked, interested and looking to me for an answer. "Motivation?" I croaked out. "Nothing really, just had a lot of food." I lied of course. He did a half shrug and said whatever, then began digging into the food.

I was glad he liked the food. After all, I did spend a good deal of time making it. As he ate I sat down in the living room and began glancing over the list of things to do for the day. My eyes suddenly swept across activities to do. Board games? That's interesting.

It had been awhile since I had played a good board game. Or any board game for that matter. After thinking about it for a moment I started searching the closets and cabinets for these damned board games. I had been searching for so long that Dean had already finished his breakfast and asked what I was doing. At this point I was looking in places it wouldn't even be, under the couch, behind the T.V. and even under the rug. "Well, I thought we could play a board game but I can't seem to find any of them." I said, letting out a sigh.

He smiled with this mischievous look, folding his arms. "Yeah, that's probably because they're in my room." His room? Of course, that made so much sense. He liked playing them of course they'd be in his room.

"Alright, well go get one." I said with smile as I got off the floor and straightened out my shirt. "Uh- okay." His smile remained, like he was amused that I was searching the entire house for these board games when they were simply in his room. 

I put his dishes in the sink, grabbing some crackers for myself. After a minute or two Dean came down with a board game. He plopped it on the table loudly as if he was laying down cash. "What's this?" I asked rhetorically. "It's the board game. My favorite, actually." I nodded, looking closer at the box.

It was some type of horror board game. I grabbed the box and sat on the floor right in front of the glass door at the front of the house. Dean slowly walked over to me, puzzled. "You know, we're not broke, we have many tables." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, well, this is a nice view and there's a lot of sunrise. The trees are nice." 

"Yeah?" He sat down. "Try living here your entire life." Something in his eyes leaked sorrow, I knew being stuck in this house was hard. I mean yes, it was beautiful, but eventually it would get boring. "Well I'm here for now." I said smiling lightly. 

"Not for long." He looked down at the board in thought. The air was a bit tense for the next couple of seconds. Suddenly Dean clapped his hands loud and and a big smile was brought on his face. "Okay so let me tell you how to play." I was a bit startled but I paid attention. "You can have five players in a game, but of course we'll only be using two. One person is the Ghost Hunter and others are the Ghosts. The ghosts have to try and scare all of the kids on the board by landing on them before the Ghost Hunter catches them. Once the Hunter catches all of the ghosts the game is over." He took the board out of the box, along with two pieces the looked like a ghost buster guy and one that was the classical white-sheet-with-two-holes-for-eyes ghost. The board looked really worn down and used. He must've had it for a very long time for it to get to this state. I ignored it though because it was still playable and that was good enough for me.

We began to play and—even after ten minutes— Dean won. We played another and after a couple of moves he won once again. Three more times and three more wins by Dean. I laid on the floor with an annoyed gurgle. "You're really good at this game." He laid down beside me with a chuckle. "Yeah, I've had a lot of practice." 

I could feel my arm slightly touching his ever so softly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to leave butterflies in my stomach. I wondered if he could feel it too and what he could've been thinking. I got up, putting the board game back in the box. "Wait, you don't want to keep playing?" He sat up, looking at me. "Well, not really, I keep losing. That's no fun. My father always told me if you keep losing the game you should stop playing." I said. Dean raised his eyebrows, "Really? He must've liked board games." I shook my head and smiled goofily. "No, no. He used to be a gambler, got really addicted to it. Eventually he just had to learn when to stop." 

Dean did a face of realization as that made much more sense. "Did he ever win anything?" He asked. I shrugged and placed the box on the table, leaning against a chair. "A couple of twenties here and there but it never amounted to much." 

Never amounted to much at all. My father was a sorry excuse for a man but he did teach me some things. Dean is lucky to have a dad that cares so much.

"What do you want to do next? We have time to spare." I said. Dean thought for a moment, playing with his short's pocket. A smile made its way to his face. "We could go to the pool?" He chimed happily. I went blank faced, blinking rapidly. What did he mean by that? Did he mean what I think he meant? "No, no. Let's do something else." 

Dean looked to the floor, "We could.." he paused "play hide and seek?" Hide and Seek wouldn't be fun in this house. Though large, the house was pretty bare and clean. A really open space that wasn't very good to hide in. 

It did make a hell of a house though.

"We could play it outside?" I questioned. I could tell Dean was about to object as his mouth opened, but he drew back and thought to himself. After a moment he shrugged and said "Okay, that's fine." 

He got up from the floor and walked out the front door. I was taken aback for a moment because I didn't realize we'd start so soon. I hurried behind him. It was quite hot outside and the sun was heading down on me. 

Putting my hands on my side I pretended to have some dominance in the game. "Okay, you will hide and I will count to 2-" Dean shook his head "Nu-uh. You hide, I'll come and find you. Rules are: No hiding in the house and no going farther than a quarter of a mile from it. Got it?" I was shocked at how sure he was, he must've played this game many times. I nodded awkwardly and gave a quiet yes. 

"I'll count to 30, you go hide." He said. -and just like that he began counting "1..2..3-" 

I felt like a kid as a smile made its way to my face and I ran as fast as I could away from Dean. I finally got pretty far away and looked for a place to hide. My eyes scouted around, just trees. Trees and I had on a light blue shirt. A very obvious light blue shirt. 

He was definitely going to see me whether I liked it or not.

I began looking harder and eventually my eyes spotted a dark red worn down shed. It had leaves all over it and some of the roof was falling off. I ran over to it and went inside. There was webs everywhere on the outside and the place was old. At least five to ten years. The inside was no better if not worse.

Is this where Dean goes when he's outside? 

Suddenly off in the distance I can hear a voice yell "Times up! I'm comin' to find ya!" It echoed through the woods and I laughed to myself quietly. This is a fun game. -but this is a horrible hiding spot. I bent down and kept my head looking to the floor. As I looked down I saw a photo edged between a crack in the wood behind a paint can. Curiously, I pulled it out and looked at it.

It was of Dean and his father, along with another kid with brown hair and a woman. It looked like a nice family. Behind them in the photo was the shed, looking brand new and shiny. 

I was caught off guard by the obvious crunching of sticks and leaves. Immediately I stuffed the photo in my back pocket and peeled out of the window. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear his feet crunching. "Castiel.. I know you're in there." He teased with a creepy voice. 

I sneaked out of the front door so fast I was sure nobody could've seen me. I hid behind the side of the shed where the footsteps weren't coming front. I was about to peek around the corner and suddenly the crunching stopped. I couldn't hear his feet crunching anymore. Had he stopped walking?

Suddenly hands pounced on my back hard with a whisper in my ear. "Gotcha!" 

I would've screamed like a girl had I not been frozen from shock. I twisted around with my heart going fast, holding my hand to my chest I breathed heavily. "Wow." I said breathlessly. "That scared me." Dean only laughed at me and patted my shoulder. "Good try, but that was very easy." He said.

I laughed with relief that it wasn't a murderer behind me and it was just him. 

"Alright it's your turn now." I said. He shook his head again. "No, no, I'm too good at this game. You won't find me." He said. I rolled my eyes, "Really? You think you're such a tough guy huh? Try me." I said confidently.

Dean looked me up and down, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. "Alright."

We started the game and just as he predicted, 30 minutes had passed and I looked all around the forest, even back in the shed where I had hidden. I found nothing. I almost felt embarrassed that I was so confident. Where the hell was he?

I didn't want to give up but I was so tired of looking. "Dean!" I yelled loudly into the forest. "I give up! Come out!" After 10 seconds of silence I heard him come up behind me and I was confused. 

"Where were you?" I asked, completely puzzled. He had a smile on his face, cheeky. "I don't give away my secret spots. Besides, I'll need it for the next time we play."

I squinted my eyes in playful annoyance. "Mhm. Alright." I said. "Let's go inside, it's really hot out here and I need a shower." I didn't wait for him to answer as I began walking down the road to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it’s definitely been some time since I’ve written but I hope you guys will forgive me. Will try to update soon.


	9. Chapter 9

We made our way into the house. When we entered the front door Dean and I went our separate ways.  
I went upstairs and grabbed clothes to take a shower. 

I washed my body and finished washing my hair, shaving and scrubbing. Once I was done I hopped out and brushed my teeth. As I was about to walk out of the bathroom the words from Dean rang in my head. 

"I've been watching you. Seeing you getting out of the shower in just that towel, soaking and practically naked. I couldn't help but want you."

If I were to walk out of the bathroom, would he be peeking around the corner? Watching me? Probably not, but maybe? It's possible. I contemplated it before deciding that it was completely insane to think he would be doing that.

I buffed my shoulders and walked out confidently, going into my room. Once I got in there I put on my clothes and then went to my bed, laying down for a moment. It wouldn't be long until 12 would roll around and I'd have to get up again.

I was in deep thought. The entire time Dean didn't say anything about last night. Nothing. So what was I supposed to do? I wanted to do it again. I really wanted to, but I couldn't just tell him that. 

Obviously I couldn't do it again. I couldn't. This is way too good of an opportunity for me. The way he touched me felt so good, but $250,000 is a lot of money. Dean has this nice smile and gentle eyes. I can't. I have two months in my apartment, if I screw this up somehow I'll not only be heartbroken but I'll be homeless. I need to be logical.

I felt like it was a romance movie and I was making a choice that would alter my entire life. I was absolutely terrified. I wouldn't bring it up if he didn't. That's my rule. If he brings it up then we can talk about it, but there's no use in adding problems to the situation. 

I laid there for about 30 minutes, just thinking. I was thinking about last night. How amazing it was and how much I enjoyed being there with him in the moment. And if it was a dream then it was the best dream I've ever had. Zach never gave me a blow job, he said it was gross. Dean made me feel something I had never felt before. I wouldn't even call it a blow job, it felt like some heavenly thing. Zach never kissed me on the forehead, or anywhere for the matter. 

It felt good. It felt so pure.

I heard Dean yell from downstairs. A loud, blood curdling scream. My nurse instincts kicked in and I rushed downstairs to see if something was wrong. Once I got down there I looked at Dean, inspecting him. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He looked at me, sitting on the couch he shrugged and said, "Yeah. Why?" I looked at him for a moment. "You screamed." I stated in a 'duh' manner. "I was bored." He just screamed bloody murder for the reason that he was bored. I wanted to tell him he scared the hell out of me but I simply said "Oh, well okay. I'd hope you could refrain from doing that again."

He sighed playfully, "I don't know, I get bored pretty easy." I internally rolled my eyes and sat down on the couch beside him. "How about if we just get through the day we can watch a movie tonight?" I said. A spark of something went through his eyes, an emotion I couldn't quite place. "A movie, huh?" He asked. I nodded with a smile. "Yes, a movie, I'll make popcorn and everything." 

He smiled lightly, "Jeez Castiel, don't spoil me." He was obviously kidding, popcorn is such a common food and he had a lot of it. I'm sure he ate it all the time. He got off the couch, straightening his clothes. Dean's eyes held mine for a moment, his emerald eyes shining brightly agains the sun. "And hey, you know what?" 

I hummed in curiosity as I idly turned off the T.V and fluffed the couch. "You could wear those shorts you wore last night." He said, walking out of the room. 

I simply said "okay", not paying attention. That is, until my head shot up and my mind registered what he had just said. "Wait, what?" My head whipped around to see that Dean had already left the room and was making his way upstairs.

It took everything in me not to rush up after him and demand to know what he meant. Though, I continued to fluff the pillows and went into the kitchen to clean the dishes. 

I turned on the water and began scrubbing the plates. I didn't understand why I couldn't get him off my mind. I mean I just didn't understand. He was an absolute asshole on the first day and for all I know what happened last night could been a way of trying to get me to quit. 

I started scrubbing and washing the utensils one by one, my mind too focused on Dean to realize a knife cut right into the palm of my hand. I let out a loud "Jesus!" Blood flowed out of my hand in quick gushes. I hissed in pain as I ran my hand over the water to get the soap out of the wound. 

It felt like fiery needles digging deep into my skin and it hurt like hell. I heard Dean shuffle down the stairs "Hey, you okay?" He called out, coming into the kitchen. I turned away from him to hide my obvious pain. "Yeah," I said with a strained voice. "please just grab me the paper towels." Dean walked over to the counter and grabbed the paper towels, handing them to me. 

He scrunched his nose in disgust, "That doesn't look too good." He said. I nodded, leaning against the counter. Taking a deep breath I pressed the paper towel piece to my hand. Jesus it hurt, it really, really hurt. Dean pulled it off my hand, "No, no. You need to wet it first." 

He grabbed another piece of paper towel, running it under the water quickly. He took his hand in mine and pressed the paper towel to it lightly. As the water hit my cut I immediately tried to pull away, but Dean held onto me tightly. "I don't want you to move, okay?" He said. I nodded. I took in a swift draw of breath. "It hurts." I whined, biting my lip hard to help stop the pain in my hand. "You're so fragile, Cas, so delicate." He spoke barely above a whisper. I don't think he knew I heard.

"Just relax, look at me." He said calmly, rubbing his thumb against my wrist soothingly. Dean's eyes met mine, his eyes calm and gentle. It was in this moment I realized how close his face was to mine. How close our hearts were at this small moment in time. How his frame leaned into mine and mine into his. I couldn't help but admire his gaze that was so caring and tender, or the freckles that made its way over the bridge of his nose. Those prominent, plump lips.

His eyes were seeping into my soul, intoxicating my heart. Our breaths were one in the same and we breathed the same air. I could smell the vanilla shampoo on him, he smelled so good. Suddenly I couldn't even feel my hand anymore. "See? Doesn't even hurt." He smiled. I returned the smile, breaking our eye contact. If I looked at him any longer I was sure I'd find myself falling too deep. I cleared my throat, "Thank you, Dean." I said, moving away from him so I could stop the urge to hold him in my arms. "I can take it from here." I carried on cleaning my hand and wrapping it up with a bandage on the medicine cabinet. "Oh. -uh- yeah-Okay then. You got it." Dean said matter-o-factly and walked back upstairs. 

As soon as he was out of my line of sight I sighed heavily, leaning back against the counter. I couldn't tell if I was shaking from the painful cut or from the fact that I practically just eye-fucked Dean.

Both, I thought. Definitely both. 

*

I didn't talk to Dean all that much for the rest of the day. I wanted to, but every time I saw him in front of me the words just didn't come out. I wasn't sure of what to say or if I should even say anything. I had completely forgotten about the movie until I was laying in my room about to go to sleep when I heard a light knock on my door. 

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Yes?" I called out lightly. "It's me." I heard Dean's muffled voice through the door. I got up, making my way through the dark room. As I opened the door I saw Dean standing there as if he were a lost puppy. His shirt was loose and he wore baggy pajamas, eyes droopy and tired. "Something wrong?" I said groggily. It wasn't too late, but I did miss the comfort of my bed. 

"Well, you said we'd have a movie night and-" he leaned against the door frame. "I already picked out a movie and stuff." I stared at him for a moment, my eyes still adjusting to the bright hallway light. "Do we have to? It's so cold downstairs." I asked. An expression of disappointment ran across his face and he fixed his posture. "No." He said firmly. "I'll go down and clean up, go back to bed." Just like that, he didn't wait for my response as he made his way down the stairs. 

I wanted to go back to sleep so badly, but the look that Dean had on his face was too much to bare. I grabbed covers and wrapped them around me, making my way down the stairs quietly. Just as I had expected it was so cold down there, but I didn't care as I walked into the living room.

There was a bowl of popcorn, drinks laid down on the table, movies stacked up in piles. Beside all the was Dean, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, looking to the ground. "Wow." I spoke softly. Dean's head shot up at me, obviously not expecting me there. He pounced up from he couching. "Castiel, hey." His words came out jumbled and quick. "You-?" He paused, surprised. "You changed your mind?" 

I shrugged with a sleepy smile, hugging the covers tighter to me. "Guess so." A spark of hope cake into Dean's eyes and a bright smile made its way to his face. "Well, good. Sit down on the couch, I'll take care of everything else." He began to pick out a movie, horror I assumed by the cover. He got the disk out and entered it into the side of the T.V. 

Dean sat down on the couch next to me. "Are you comfortable? How's your hand?" He asked. "Much better." I smiled. He nodded, "Good, good." His eye's looked around, picking up the bowl of food. "Popcorn?" He chimed out, giving out an inviting smile.

I shook my head, leaning back into the couch when the movie started. "No thanks." I said. 

Dean didn't say much for the movie, but every 20 minutes I noticed he would edge closer to me. He did it ever so slightly and I wouldn't have noticed had it not been for the obvious smile that would plaster to his face every time he thought he got away with it.

The movie was halfway over and I was getting very tired. I figured if he was moving closer to me then he wouldn't mind if I laid my head on his shoulder. So I did, pressing my head against his soft cloth shirt. Dean didn't utter a word, but I felt him lean against me subtly. It was a quiet and peaceful moment if you didn't count the murdering happening in the movie. 

My eyes got heavier and heavier until sleep finally grasped my mind and pulled me into its depths. Last thing I could remember was me leaning against him while watching some cliche horror movie. He ate popcorn lightly and watched the film intently, every so often sparing me a glance.

And to be honest, it wasn't the worst way to fall asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke up to the feeling of hands, soft, delicate hands making their way through my hair. They brushed through so gently, floating over as if he didn't want to hurt me, as if I was going to break. I was so paralyzed, so high off the feeling of bliss that I didn't care to move from this heaven. It was still night. I could tell because the all-too-familiar sun wasn't shining through my closed eyelids. Maybe it was really early in the morning. 

My head was no longer leaning against Dean's, it was in a more consequential lay out of my body on his. My face was buried in his cotton shirt, stuck in the motion of his fragile breaths moving his chest up and down. The distinct feeling of that hand swimming through my hair, breaking through the currents was what kept me still. My hand, which rested against Dean's chest, glided over his skin and wrapped against his backside. It's not as if I meant to scare him off, not as if I meant to make him shy away, but I couldn't help something that felt so right. 

In that moment I could feel how tense Dean became and how the breath that once created my bliss was now frozen still. It was silent for a moment before Dean finally took a swift breath of air into his lungs, a shaky, unfiltered breath. "You're awake?" He asked, his voice was so light, so sweet and soft. I had never heard him sound like that before, but god I could listen to it forever. 

I meant to respond, 'yes' or something of the sort but all that came out was a hum of glee. This sound that I'd never heard myself make before. I tried again, nodding slightly as to not wake my bones up yet. I didn't want my body to think I was awake yet because my brain and I were very much wanting to stay put. "Oh." Was all I heard through those soft lips. I was so focused on staying put that when I felt him begin to try to break free from me I immediately snugged both of my arms around his waist like anchors. No, no, I don't want you to go, I want you to stay. Stay with me, please. If you leave I might fall apart, I might crash and burn. 

I wanted to say these things, hell, I was about to before my brain decided that it wasn't exactly the smartest idea. "Please don't." Was the answer I came up with. My weak voice showed no dominant features, it was trembly and needy but I had no fear in what I wanted. It was a poor attempt at making him seep back into the couch, back into my arms, but somehow, some way, it worked. I could feel his body lower back into the sofa. His hands tied themselves into my hair again, gripping delicately in wait. "You sure?" He pressed on, taking his other hand to the side of my head and brushing a loose hair behind my ear. With that tingly sensation I was more than sure. 

"Yes." I said in a breathy sigh, working my fingers under his shirt, slipping through the fabric and up the side of his stomach. My fingertips danced along his skin as I made my way up his chest and around his feature. My hands landed on his upper back, holding on softly as if to say 'you're mine, if only for tonight, you're mine'. 

Dean didn't say anything else before putting his hands through my hair. "You know, you were saying stuff in your sleep." He stated. My brows furrowed in confusion but my eyes remained shut. Just as I had expected, he carried on. "I didn't really understand a lot of it, to be honest." He admitted with a light chuckle that vibrated through his body. "But you did the same thing the last time we slept together." That sentence made my body freeze up. Last time we slept together, it was real. It actually happened and my attempts at avoiding it were null and void. 

"So it did happen." I said under my breath in a soft, unbelieving manner. "Well, yeah." Dean said, I could hear the smile in his voice with a 'duh' type of tone. My eyes crept open to a dim lit room, the only presence of light being the one from the tv. 

My eyes slowly lifted to meet his. What I found in place of Dean's eyes were these two loving orbs of green. They were soft and gentle, too tired to show any form of alert or stance, too tired to hide any unwanted emotion. They were raw and truthful. "We're going to have to stop doing this. It's not right." I declared with a groggy, wiped out voice. Dean looked away from mine, as if to think and process my sentence. His eyes met mine once more, "Why?" He began, "We're not hurtin' anybody." He objected to my statement, his eyes narrowed on my jawline.

"That's not the point, De-" I managed to get out most of my sentence before Dean shushed me, putting his hand over my mouth. He gave me this look, a look that said 'if you say another damn word I'll have to punish you'. 

"Dea-" I attempted to say through my muffled mouth. It was useless with this hunk of a hand guarding my lips. "Sit up." Dean demanded, stiffening up and backing away from my body. An unwanted groan left my lips, it was soft but it pushed through Dean's hands loud and clear. He moved his hand away from my mouth. I didn't want our bodies to part, it felt so good in his arms. Though, I did as he said, sitting up and giving us space. I'd love to say it wasn't obvious how needy I was to be back on him, but it was. My body was restless and squirming as I attempted to keep my hands from gliding back into his arms.

"Listen," His voice shook demandingly. "I'm going to kiss you." That took me off guard, I found myself shuffling back on my own to the far end of the small couch. I put as much distance as I could between us, but our legs still grazed upon each others slow and miserably. My body was still and my eyes fixated on his, listening intently to what he had to say. "What?" I croaked out, a recognizable fear in my voice as I held my arms close to my body. Kiss me? Why? 

"Well," He paused, "I'm going to kiss you and if you feel nothing-" his eyes looked deep into mine with some type of fear of reject, he took a quick lick to his lips as he continued. "then I'll stop, won't ever bring it up again." He edged closer to me, grabbing my hand and intertwining it with mine. They locked perfectly into his soft palm. He took a quick glance down to my hand, holding on the slightest bit tighter as the air in his lungs were engulfed with a shaky breath. "But if you feel even the slightest of something," his other hand slid up to my jaw, making an imaginary line past my face and onto the lower back of my neck. His face was mere inches away from mine. "a little tingle inside you that says to keep going, to kiss me a little longer." He sat in my lap, cradling my waist, each leg on either side of me. "Then why should we stop?" His lips gently brushed against mine, a small kiss that told me to get ready. This sent a message to my heart that immediately screamed at me to devour him with my lips until I drove him crazy. 

"I want this." He moaned so softly and slowly into my ear. I attempted to ignore the feeling of his cock grinding against mine every time he'd move. "I want you." That voice of his, that husky voice filled with need and begging sent me over the edge of lust. I simply nodded and wrapped my hands around his neck, pressing our lips together like two fine rose petals. I knew it was wrong, but it's hard to not want something that's tempting you.

I'd be lying if I said I wanted to stop, that's the worst part. I'd be lying. I didn't want to stop. Matter of fact; if he stopped I'd surely go insane. The feeling of his lips on mine, his hands trailing my body made me feel as if once more I mattered. The butterflies danced on my insides. This was a one way train that I wouldn't be coming back from and it was a welcomed surprise that I didn't mind in the moment. I treaded carefully, the first kiss was small and careful as if he didn't want to break me. Soon, though, our lips danced together back and forth in perfect rhythm. Moving together and taking in his taste of salty sweet dreams. I couldn't help but bend into Dean and hold our hips close together, letting my dick lead instead of my brain. My hands traveled down his chest and tugged on his jean belt, his groan instantly banged into mine, causing a small moan to slip past my lips from the electricity coursing through my veins . Dean definitely seemed to notice because soon enough my body was pressed against the sofa. This is exactly what I wanted. His hands on me, him touching me and grasping whatever he can simply because he couldn't stop himself. His lips were like a volcano, overflowing with passion and heat.

"Cas?" Dean said softly through soft kisses, it sounded so fragile and vulnerable, as if he was giving me his all. "Hmm?" I managed to hum in question. "Do you want to stop?" He said before laying one last kiss on my lips and moving back so his eyes could meet mine. My lips tingled from the sudden loss of movement, I missed it. When I opened my eyes I could see Dean staring intently into my eyes, as if he was ready to pounce me as soon as I told him to keep going. And god damn me if I told him to stop. It startled me ever so slightly but I shook my head softly and let a smile form on my lips. "Not ever."

As if that was all he needed, he banged into my body once more, closing that undesired space between the two of us. He quickly took the shirt off me, throwing it on the coffee table. Not a moment went by before Dean smashed his lips back onto mine, desperate and controlling. Dean, shoving his hands into mine, pinned them over my head. He banged our hips together, grinding me into the messed up sofa. The blood immediately shot to my dick, excited and ready. I moaned out in a loud, shaky "Jesus Christ." My mouth formed the words before I had even thought to say them. If he kept going like this I'd tip over the edge before he was even inside me. I wanted to say no, say no so he could hurry and push himself inside me, pounding me into the sofa until I came all over him and his shirt. And if he asked me to I'd lick every drop off, I'd do it if that's what he wanted. That's exactly what I wanted right now, but I couldn't bring myself to mutter 'stop' or anything like that. It felt so good and I'd surely die if he decided to halt. 

"Do you like this?" Dean huskily breathed next to my ear. It was a whisper but I could've sworn it sounded like a train tunnel that echoed on for miles. He pushed hard against me, harder this time which caused me to whisper with a hitch in my breath, "Yes." I shakily said with fluttering eyes. "I love it." I was nearly lost in the feeling of our bodies moving as one that I didn't realize he stopped and began kissing my neck roughly. Wet, messy kisses against my collarbone. 

I shut my eyes, squeezed them shut so tightly I was sure my eyelids would fall off. "Please don't stop." I begged and wrapped my hands in his hair.  A raspy groan left my lips as soon as Dean's perfect hipbones found mine once again. Just keep going, please, I beg, please don't ever stop. I wanted to say these things, sweet talk him and whisper dirty things in the cover of dim light. I didn't think I was ready for that, though. "It's okay baby, I'm not gonna stop until you've came in those pretty pants of yours." He whispered seductively as he kissed my jawline, following the trail back to my lips. "Do you want that?" He edged on, wrapping his rough fingers around my nipple, giving the nub a small twist. I let out a sharp moan, but he pressed his lips to mine, sipping my sounds of passion down his throat. 

My legs grabbed around Dean's waist and banged into his frame. His eyes slammed shut as he let out the most beautiful grunt of pleasure I had ever heard. "Yes, Dean." My voice trembled and my lips quivered. I was close. He picked up his pace, losing the rhythm in ourselves. 

The thing that turned me on, the thing that kept me going to the breaking point was that Dean never took his eyes off me. He looked into my eyes and on my body like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Not once did he look away or attempt to imagine someone else. He looked at me. I was who he wanted in this moment.

I could feel my dick pressing so hard against the fabric of my pants that it felt as if it was about to burst. "De- god -" I tried to speak something but words were not forming. I didn't know how to deal with my building of pleasure except with a moan that let all of the pressure out. "Harder." I managed to say through a brittle moan. My legs trembled and my arms became weak, my vision was blurry. Dean gave another hard push, grabbing onto my ass. Hard. "Oh baby, I'm so close." His voice shook as he continued to grind hard against me. 

My body tensed up as the feeling became too much and immediately I could feel my body letting loose of that substance that I hadn't seen for awhile. My hands climbed to his hair, giving it a hard tug. My cum shot out and wet my pants. I could tell Dean was almost done as he did one last hard pound against me. His body tensed up and a broken moan echoed out, the arms that held him up began to shake and become fragile.

His body fell on mine, the only thing leaving his mouth was a single sigh of completion. 

We laid there in silence for a moment, the only thing being heard were out loud breaths against each other.

Dean was the first one to break the silence. "So," His breath began to even out. "Want to go for a second round?" He grinned against my chest, planting soft kisses on my stomach. It left butterflies and cocoons that hatched with every brush of his lips on my skin. "Right now?" I asked surprised. I didn't think I could go again.

"No-" he chuckled breathlessly "what I mean is-" his eyes glanced up to mine with certainty. "Will we be doing this again?" My eyes got lost in his, more so in thought. Would we be doing this again? God I wanted to, so badly. Even now with his lips pressed against my chest. 

So I said what I felt. "I don't know, Dean." 

I could feel something shatter inside  his eyes. He was quiet for a moment before the calm eyes turned into anger. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" I was taken aback, trying to defend myself I muttered out a "What?" in confusion. He got off me, then off the couch, standing beside the coffee table. His eyes glared at me, like I was his enemy, like I was a stranger. He threw his hands up. "You're just gonna let me do you like that when you didn't want to do this with me?" His furrowed brows showed how upset he was. "No, Dean, that's not what I mea-" 

Dean began to tear up, "Fuck off Castiel. You're just like the damn rest'ofem." He spit out and began to walk away, turning off the tv. "Just fuck off." 

As I put my shirt on and began cleaning up the mess and things I was confused. I wasn't surprised, one wrong thing said to him could tear him apart. Worse, I highly doubt he realized how dramatic he was. Though, it wasn't his fault at all. Not at all.


	11. Sorry (authors note)

Lately I don’t know where I’m going with this story and I’ve been seriously considering cutting it short. I just don’t have the motivation for it and it seems as if people don’t like it.

I may be wrong, of course.

Though, I feel like I should focus on a new book or something. Maybe focus on my one-shots or other stories, but unless I find the right motivation or people ask for me to continue..

this story will no longer have anymore updates.


End file.
